


Never Send a Rogue to Do a Wraith's Job

by LadyofAvalon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: X-wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofAvalon/pseuds/LadyofAvalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of a prank war between the Rogues and the Wraiths, the members of Wraith Squadron get fed up when one of the Rogues goes a little too far and decide that the war needs to be ended. How far do they go to end it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Send a Rogue to Do a Wraith's Job

"What do you mean 'you blew it up'?" The voice of a very irritated Wedge Antilles asked. The founder of Rogue and Wraith Squadrons sat back in his chair with his head in his hands. It was one in the morning, and three pilots were gathered in Wedge's office. The brown haired man just stared at the Wraith in front of him.

"It's not my fault!" Kell Tainer told him. The tall, dark-haired man shot a look at Wes Janson, who was standing on the other side of the room. Wes shook his head while trying to fight off silent laughter.

"Whose is it, then, Kell?" Wedge asked. He turned his unamused brown gaze on his pilot. Kell glanced around nervously.

"Uh…Face?" He suggested hopefully. Wedge once again put his head in his hands, though, this time, it was to disguise a grin. The pranks were one of the best things about having formed two elite commando-pilot squadrons. It was even better when it was between the groups. Wedge let out a sigh.

"Face was out all day, and only got back two hours ago. How could he have done it?"

"Oh. Right. Runt, then?" Wedge stifled a laugh. This was going to be good…

* * *

"Shut up, Inyri, I'm trying to watch this!"

"No, you shut up, Gavin, you're making it impossible."

"Hey! It's not my fault that you put the holorecorder in the wrong place, Corran!"

"Will you two shut it! I can't hear what Wedge is saying."

The three Rogue Squadron pilots glanced at each other, each looking like they wanted to slug one of the others two. They knew the Wraiths were up to something. There hadn't been an inter-squadron prank in two weeks – something had to be coming. That was the price they paid for starting a prank war. Well, it hadn't been Corran or Inyri, it had been Gavin, playing a prank on Garik Loren. Face had not liked getting pranked, not when it had involved stepping out of his quarters to slide all the way to the mess hall, through numerous items that had been strategically placed by the Rogues for just such a prank.

The new leader of Wraith Squadron had ended up covered in brilliant pink paint – the kind that only came off with that stuff of Cuber's – tarred in glue, covered in gold glitter, and covered in a perfume that smelled like flowers.

To say the least, Face had not been pleased, particularly since it was pink and gold that Gavin had chosen. It had been rather amusing to see everyone in the mess hall when Face walked in like that. Now, _that_ had been funny. Loren had even looked mad enough to punch whichever Rogue even got close to him. Well, he had a right – pink was definitely not his color.

"I think Wedge is in on it," Gavin muttered, observing the commanding officer on the screen.

"No, really?" Corran asked sarcastically. Gavin glared at him.

"He helped us, so why wouldn't he help them? I think we're going to need to watch our backs on this one…" Gavin muttered.

"You think? Wow, that's comforting. After so long in Rogue Squadron, I would think that you would be more assured of what you think Wedge is doing," Inyri scoffed.

"I'm not helping you anymore."

"Aw, Corran!"

* * *

Kell grinned broadly as he let himself into his quarters. He glanced back out the door, then made sure it shut behind him. He chuckled as he glanced around the room, where a number of the other Wraith Squadron pilots were sitting quietly, also grinning. They had pulled it off.

With Wedge's help, they had gotten into the Rogue's records and sliced into the information about the new base the Rogues were supposed to be staying at during their next mission. The one that had all the perks anyone from a fighter squadron would want. They had seamlessly changed the coordinates in the record, and Kell had faked having a demolitions malfunction while helping Intelligence with the sweep of the base. What he was supposed to have been doing carrying around his demolition material was beyond everyone, except the Wraiths who were in on the prank, and Wedge.

"Mission accomplished," he said. The others just grinned, trying to contain their laughter. They had perfectly planned the scene in Wedge's office, where they knew Corran had placed recording devices just for the occasion. The Rogues weren't too pleased about the fact that they thought that they would have to spend the rest of their mission with the ship instead of working from the base, as they had planned. Now, they just had to figure out how to get Gavin back for tarring and glittering Face, who was still bright pink.

* * *

"AHHHH!" The sound of Gavin Darklighter's yell of distress, anger, annoyance, and utter horror resounded all the way to the mess hall, which was two floors down. Immediately, the Wraiths all burst into laughter. Oh, this was a good one. Nearly half of Rogue Squadron got up and went to see what the problem was. Corran, Inyri, Tycho, and Donos made their way up to where Gavin was on his knees in horror as he stared into his quarters. His eyes were huge and his jaw had fallen about three inches. The sight that met them was more than funny. It was absolutely hilarious. The room itself was covered in the same paint that Gavin had used on Face, blasted with gold glitter, and had 'You've been Wraith'd' painted on the wall in silver. Gavin's closet was open, revealing that all of his clothes were gone, replaced by women's evening gowns, courtesy of Dia and Tyria. Everything else had either disappeared from the room, or was covered in pink, gold, and silver.

Last, but not least, there was a datapad on the floor in front of the very distraught pilot.

_If you want your clothes and personal items back, you (and the rest of Rogue Squadron) will agree to a truce. We Wraiths are tired of being pranked, and we are sure that you do not want to spend the next three weeks living on this ship while wearing dresses. Don't even try to get back at us, because we have the coordinates to the real base, where you will be meeting Admiral Ackbar. The conditions of the truce are as such:  
_

_1\. No more pranks on Wraith Squadron_

_2\. You will purchase the solvent for the paint that Cuber uses, and give it to Face so that he can clean up, then we will_ help _you clean your quarters._

_3\. We work together to prank General Crespin and Blue Squadron when they join us here._

_Sincerely,_

_The Wraiths_

_Wonderful. Just wonderful,_ Gavin thought. He had been out pranked by an Intelligence Squadron. The rest of his squadron would never let him live it down now. He got to his feet and walked furiously down to the mess. When Face and Kell saw him, they just grinned.

"And that is why you never send a Rogue to do a Wraith's job," they said in unison.


End file.
